Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mauritius and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Silicon Teens to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by June Days. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Half Japanese,
8 Eyed Spy,
E-Dancer,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Hood,
Danielle Patucci,
the Normal,
Agent Orange,
Mad Mike,
Spandau Ballet,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
Pussy Galore,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Blossom Toes,
Hardrive,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Patti Smith,
Lalann,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eve St. Jones,
Skaos,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
Warsaw,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
Slick Rick,
Gang of Four,
Morten Harket,
The Busters,
Sixth Finger,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
John Foxx,
The Stooges,
Bush Tetras,
Barrington Levy,
Joensuu 1685,
Technova,
The Blackbyrds,
Dorothy Ashby,
Excepter,
Icehouse,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sex Pistols,
The Tremeloes,
Duran Duran,
Desert Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arthur Verocai,
Altered Images,
Roxette,
Dennis Brown,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Techniques,
Boz Scaggs,
Mission of Burma,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.